The Holiday
by LadyFateCreatingDisaster
Summary: This is basically a fanfic that a friend of mine REALLY wanted to see. She adores Hinny, so that's what it basically is. Romione's too I basically took the Holiday and Harry Potter and mashed them together. A ton of the dialogue is the same in the first post - but it was a bit necessary. It's just something she wanted to see happen, and I wanted to write it for he.


A/N – Okay, so a friend of mine just randomly posted, "Why isn't there a Hinny fic for The Holiday? I would love someone if they wrote it!" I agreed, so I said, "I VOLUNTEER!" and this is basically how this came to be. Emma, I hope you like this, and if not, I TRIED!

Ginny – Chapter One

"_I have found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said, 'Journeys end in lovers meeting.' What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I'm more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I'm constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said, 'Love is blind.' Now, that is something I __**know**__ to be true. For some, quite inexplicably, love fades. For others, love is simply lost. But then, of course, love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there's another kind of love. The cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It's called unrequited love. Of that, I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other, but what about the rest of us? What about our stories? Those of us who fall in love alone. We are the victims of the one-sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones. The walking wounded. The handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space. Yes, you are looking at one such individual…" _(Kate Winslet/Iris Simpkins – the Holiday)

Ginny Weasley sat holed up in her office, all but oblivious to the office Christmas party carrying on outside. Snowflakes clung to the windows, simultaneously melting to form small paths of condensation on the transparent glass. She wished she could forget about what was going on outside. She wished she could be in her home, contently waiting for awaited whistle of the tea kettle instead of torturing herself at work. Though the deadline of her latest report loomed nearer, running out at an alarming pace, Hermione's hands were busying themselves with a different task. In front of her was a small, neatly wrapped package just shy of a ribbon.

Though wrapping it by magic would have been an easier way to go about it, she felt that the sentimental value increased if she did it herself. She knew it was a good choice immediately. She beamed at her handiwork, pleased that she could find such a wonderful gift to give. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he opened it. She sighed. Him. It was always him. She shook her head as if to clear it, then turned her focus to the beautiful golden ribbon she'd set aside especially for this gift. Once again, instead of using magic, she measured, cut, and tied the ribbon on herself. Though it was a little lopsided, she was content with her handiwork.

As uneager as she was to return to the cringe inducing frivolity outside her office, she supposed she'd have to make an appearance at some point. She gingerly picked up the gift and carefully put it inside one of the multitude of drawers in her desk. She rose from her chair, smoothing her dress absentmindedly. Forgoing all personal desires, she gritted her teeth and exited her office. She looked back for a moment, the sudden change from a quiet, solitary environment to a buzzing, social one unsettling her. The thought of being alone without having to worry who she might see enticed her, and before she knew it, her fingers were wrapped in a death grip around the handle of her office door. Then she saw him. Her breath hitched, and she couldn't find the will to move her feet. The room suddenly felt both hot and cold at the same time, and her breathing became slightly erratic. As if on cue, his attention was turned from the person in front of him, and he caught her eye. Her grip slipped from the handle and she found herself making a beeline for Hannah Abbott, one of the few people she could actually talk to at work.

Without explanation, she tore the glass of Firewhiskey from her hand and gulped. Hannah was taken aback for a moment, but recognized the symptoms Ginny was exhibiting and sighed.

"Oh. Dean. Don't tell me you're still -"

"Oh, no. That's over… very over." She worked to keep her voice even.

"What's the story with you two, anyway? You were shagging him, weren't you?" Hannah replied, securing an arm around her shoulders.

"More importantly, I was in love with him, truth be known."

"Yes, yes, then you found out he was shagging that drip from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." She said dismissively.

"Which is why I stopped shagging him. We shouldn't be talking about this at the office party." Ginny replied, slightly resigned.

"But I always see you two together," Hannah pressed on. "He cheated on you… but you stayed friends?"

"I was head over heels. Everyone knew…"

She quickly swiped the tip of her index finger under her eye to remove a tear that had escaped from its duct.

"Does it look like I'm crying right now?"

"No, no, no – it just looks like it's the effects of the Firewhiskey." Hannah assured her, taking a sip herself.

She paused for a moment, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Did… he ever actually tell you he loved you back?"

"Yes!" Ginny proclaimed, somewhat defensively. "Three, almost four times! And when I reminded him of that, he said it must've been as an answer to a question. Which, by the way, it absolutely was not!"

"You know, Ginny, when you catch your guy with another woman, you're not supposed to stay friends with him. You're supposed to never talk to the prick again. You're supposed to throw things at him, scream, call him names. Not do his blooming laundry."

Ginny looked appalled.

"I don't do his laundry. Did someone tell you I do his laundry?! No – all we do now is… well, we talk through the floo network. Not when she's around, of course. And there's the occasional long lunch…"

Hannah scoffed.

"You know, I never realized how pathetic you are."

"Really?" Ginny smirked. "God, I'm SO aware of it."

Hannah sighed.

"Oh, they always know JUST how to get us, don't they? He knows whenever he comes back into your life -"

"Actually," Ginny interrupted. "he has made some small comments like that recently. He hasn't exactly come right out and said it - "

"Ginny!" a voice interrupted.

She turned to see her editor standing behind her.

"Did you file your report?"

Ginny's eyes widened and she quickly glanced at her watch.

"Oh, no. Not yet – down to the wire. Sorry."

She turned back to Hannah with an apologetic look.

"Better go."

She hastily, and gratefully, if truth be told, speed-walked to her office to finish off her work. She sighed, sitting at her desk and finishing up her report.

"Okay, I've got a question for you." a voice came from the door to her office.

She pivoted in her chair to find Dean Thomas casually leaning against the door frame, smiling widely at her.

"What's it like to be the only one committed to work while the rest of us are slumming?"

She couldn't help but smile back, her cheeks flushing almost as red as her hair.

"You mean, what's it like to be the only person not to finish their work on time?"

She laughed.

"Hold on, don't – don't go."

She briefly returned to her report, dipping her quill in the inkwell and scribbling furiously.

"Is it fun having a brain that works that fast?" He inquired, smirking slightly.

"Shut up."

"No, I mean it."

She scribbled some more, ending the final sentence with flourish as she snatched her quill into the air.

"Probably a brilliant finish, too."

She sighed.

"I assure you it's not."

"Hi, Ginny."

"Hi." She said, somewhat breathlessly. "Your column today was fantastic. Merlin, I loved that line – "

She rubbed her forehead, straining to remember it. Her face lit up when she did, and she quoted:

"The onrushing stripping of dignity through parentage from wizarding lives."

She smiled.

"Great writing."

He briefly returned the smile, then his eyes lit up as if he had just remembered something.

"Hey, I got you something for Christmas!"

She grinned, thinking of the intricately wrapped package that rested in her desk drawer.

"That's convenient, because I got you something too."

She leant over and pulled the drawer out. There it was – that small package that contained something she'd worked very hard to find. All for him. She pulled it out, turned to him, and was met with a sheepish expression.

"Oh, well – Darling, I don't actually have my gift with me. In fact, I probably mislaid it, but I know I got you something. I suspect it's somewhere in my office, do you want to know what it is?"

She pulled her expression together and waved him off.

"No, that's okay."

He grinned rather impishly.

"I know you're going to look hot in it."

She rolled her eyes.

"Well, let's hope you find it, then."

She focused her attention to her gift and said,

"Not exactly something HOT, but Happy Christmas."

She blushed slightly as she handed him the gift.

"Thank you."

"I didn't think we'd actually get a chance to do that this year. Remember last Christmas, we exchanged gifts in March." She smiled. "This is good – we're getting better."

He pawed at the wrapping paper and pulled out the book she'd worked so hard to find. It was of all the great football teams in Britain. She remembered how he never shut up about them during Quidditch matches back at school. She smiled warmly as she saw his face light up.

"You stinker." He said, a happy grin etched permanently into his face.

"They're all here," he said in awe. "where did you find it?"

"Somewhere in that bookstore you drug me to one time." She said, attempting to sound nonchalant.

He hesitated before speaking, then said, "Why are you so great?"

Both pain and bliss erupted somewhere deep within her chest. She exhaled, forcing a smile onto her face. It was when he said things like this that got to her.

A voice announced from somewhere outside that someone was about to speak. They both turned their attention in the direction of the voice, torn from their brief few moments of time together.

"I hate it that we never talk." Dean said, putting on a frown that nearly broke her heart.

She swallowed convulsively, his new girlfriend immediately surfacing in every thought she had.

:"Hate it." She agreed, attempting to ignore the large knot in her throat.

He gave her a look that was somewhat apologetic and walked outside to hear the announcement. She allowed herself one moment to lose composure. She breathed in and out for a few moments, stood up, straightened her skirt, and followed suit.

"First of all, Happy Christmas to each and every one of you." The speaker announced.

"_Happy… oh, extremely so."_ Ginny thought bitterly.

Every other person in the room raised their glasses of Firewhiskey and acknowledged him warmly.

"Now, we're not officially closed, as you very well know. But, we are going to try and get by this week with a smaller than normal work staff. Now, before some of you rush off on holiday, I do have one rather important announcement."

He made sure he commanded the attention of every person in the room.

"A wedding was privately announced earlier today, and it is between two of our most esteemed colleagues. May I introduce the newly engaged Lavender Brown and Dean Thomas!"

Ginny's face fell. She felt her heart drop into her stomach. Her knees wouldn't cease their incessant buckling. It was just no use anymore. She supposed she should have seen it coming rather than get her hopes up every time he talked to her.

He stepped up on the stage, tall and sure next to his new fiancée, looking happier than she'd seen him in a while. He opened his mouth to make a speech, but Ginny couldn't listen. She blocked everything out, oblivious to anything but him. His face. His hair. The way he used his hands when he talked….

For a brief moment, he caught her eye. His expression was unreadable. She merely nodded, feeling something burning in her eyes. It was no use. She turned to leave, feeling completely numb. She spared a last glance at the happy couple, and could think no bitter things.

She ran to the entrance of her work and pushed through the door, tearing into the cold, unforgiving Winter without a second look back.


End file.
